Page 7 of Sheltered by the Lawman

Chapter 3

SHE WAS BLATANTLY aware of her headache minutes before she opened her eyes. The throbbing pain vibrated her temples and the inside of her ears ached. She shifted her position as a wave of sickness rolled through her stomach, making her feel like she might vomit. Once the feeling subsided some, she moved her arm, but it was constrained by something. Finally opening her eyes just a crack, the bright overhead light made her squint in pain.

She moaned and shut her eyes, waiting for the pulsating pain in her temples to subside again.

Forcing her lids to open, she looked around her at the blank white walls, the beeping monitor by her head, the tightening blood pressure cuff and the IV hooked to her arm. Where was she? In a hospital? She tried to work through the fuzzy paths of her brain but couldn’t remember how she got here.

Bringing a shaky hand up, she rubbed her forehead, feeling a stinging sensation under the bandage. Was she injured? How did she get hurt? Blinking, she remembered a purse…fire…beautiful blue eyes staring at her. And nothing else but void.

Her mouth was so dry and she was so thirsty. What she needed was water and maybe a painkiller, but her pain was quickly fading. Something told her that whatever was in the bag of fluids was enough to take the edge off, but was it also the reason why she couldn’t remember anything?

Hearing a moan, she held her breath. She saw two dusty boots.

Who was in the room with her?

It took all her energy to lift herself on one elbow and look across the room. A solid minute passed before she could focus. A man was stretched out in the chair. His white hat was pulled over his face and he was asleep by the sound of his even breathing. Who was he? And why was he here?

Feeling dizzy, she dropped back onto the bed and tried to keep her eyes open, but her lids were heavy. She was so tired. Relaxing into the pillow, she allowed the heaviness to take over. Maybe later she would remember…

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Cull was glad that he’d found an extra shirt in his truck as he sat in the narrow chair in the overcrowded lobby in the emergency department. He’d cursed himself a dozen times for taking this case in the first place, yet how the hell was he supposed to know it would turn out to be a shit mess? To his right was an elderly man holding a bloody cloth to his forehead while a woman who must be his daughter paced back and forth only to stop every few minutes to remind the man to keep pressure on the injury.

To his left was a crying toddler who refused his pacifier and his only solace was a commercial advertising dandruff shampoo playing on the TV from across the room.

Cull’s eyes naturally dipped to the dirty backpack that the woman had on her when he’d found her. It drew him like metal to a magnet, and even as he pulled the rusty zipper he felt a stab of guilt. Hell, what did he have to be guilty for? He’d saved her, been shot at, busted up his knee when he jumped over the fence, and was still in Cheyenne when he’d rather be home.

As the daughter continued to pace back and forth and the toddler cried even more, Cull waded through several changes of clothing, each article as simple as the oversized clothing she was wearing when he first saw her, a can of mace, and a book of poetry by Robert Frost which had been read numerous times by the worn pages. He liked Frost too.

Laying the book aside, he went back to rummaging through the bag, finding a tube of lip balm, a five-dollar bill, and nothing else. How could she not have any ID?

Flipping through the pages of the book, something slipped out and fell to the floor. The pacing woman almost stepped on it. She bent, picked it up and gave a shaky smile. “She’s pretty.”

He took the picture and his gaze was drawn to the woman staring back at him from the photo. It was taken on the beach and she looked so carefree. The sun teased her red hair …not exactly red, but strawberry blonde with darker highlights that seemed to perfectly catch the glint in her bright green eyes. Her wide smile was beckoning. She looked young. Innocent. Beautiful.

What drove her to become an escort? To get involved in a dangerous lifestyle? As a lawman, he knew the stories, probably heard most of them in his career. Sometimes they were the truth and sometimes they weren’t. He didn’t need to hear hers.

He tapped the picture and sighed. It didn’t matter to him what her story was, or how she got here today. His job was simple. Apprehend her, then drop her off with Deke and he’d take it from there. What mattered she’d have to face those she’d wronged. If she’d played a role in a man’s death, she’d have to suffer the consequences.

Yet, this wasn’t a simple case. Not when someone had shot at Cull. He’d been shot at before, but this, well, he didn’t like loose ends, or assholes who attempted to kill him.

A good detective always had questions and Cull had many. For one, why did a woman who was known for her ‘skills’ of drawing a man in have a backpack full of worn oversized clothing and nothing else? Was this her disguise? Was the assailant waiting for her inside her apartment? Did she know him and had they planned to meet?

He rubbed the bridge of his nose.

Maybe he was searching for answers he wouldn’t find. That happened in some cases. If a man could figure out how a criminal’s mind worked there wouldn’t be any crime.

Needing to stay on track, he’d left his number with the officers at the scene in case they had any more questions. Certainly, they’d want to speak to the woman in the hospital before it was all said and done. In the meantime, he needed to stay close to her. This was a business deal.

He could tell himself that this was all about making sure she didn’t get away, but the truth was that he was a little—or a lot—worried about her too. Someone had tried to kill her, and for them to want to get rid of her meant she’d either pissed someone off or she knew something important. What did she know?

When she’d been holstered into the back of the ambulance, he’d been on the edge of riding with her, but instead was carted off by Detective Whitlock to answer a few questions. Cull didn’t tell the detective everything he knew about the woman. He didn’t exactly lie, but he’d whittled down the truth, saying he’d been in the neighborhood, saw the smoke and raced in to save her. Simple as that. It would only be a matter of time before they connected her real name, but for now the lease for the apartment was under a false name.

He needed to be careful. When he’d held her in his arms and she’d asked him to stay with her, something triggered in him. A part of him that hadn’t been touched, or examined, in too long reared its head.

The last relationship he had lasted all of five minutes and he’d realized then that he needed to steer clear of anything long term. He didn’t have what it took to please a woman for anything other than a good time between the sheets, and here lately, he hadn’t been seeing much action in that area either.

Cull needed to get his head on track. He didn’t have any connection or obligation to this woman other than seeing that she faced the heat of her wrongdoings…and to get the reward. Easing into the chair, an image of how she looked in the picture flooded his braincells. She was unlike all the other badasses he’d arrested or brought in for questioning. She’d been so small, vulnerable in his arms. If he hadn’t come when he did, she wouldn’t be here. Why did his throat constrict?

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